I slit my wrists till blood comes out,
It makes me wanna scream and shout.
But at the same time it feels good,
when I'm mad i think i should.
When I'm done i feel shame,
shame from all the pain.
Shame from the puddle of blood on the bathroom floor.
Soon hells gonna be knocking on my front door.
Why cant i stop? i don't know,
but maybe I'll stop whenever i drop.
Drop to the floor from a cut too deep,
then i wont even make a peep.
Is that what it will take?
I hope not because then there will be a lake.
A lake of blood, a puddle of tears,
Just a mess to clean- up for all my peers.
God, wont you help me stop?
I don't think i really wanna drop!
